


The Sun in Morocco

by miobambiino



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Card Games, Drunken Shenanigans, First Time, Getting Together, I just want them all to get along, M/M, Mild Language, Recreational Drug Use, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miobambiino/pseuds/miobambiino
Summary: The avengers take a vacation after a dry-spell in villainy, and a not-so-dry-spell in weather in New York. Steve and Tony get to know each other a little more intimately.





	The Sun in Morocco

**Author's Note:**

> This trope has probably been done in some form or other about a billion times but, *waves hands* here.

The levels of super-villainy had been very subdued of late, which for once, actually kinda sucked.

Don’t get them wrong, it wasn’t like they _wanted_ civilians in danger, it was just that they were so, so bored.

Their job wasn’t exactly consistent, and now even Tony who had a company on the side, had given the majority of his role to Pepper. Being a superhero did take quite a lot of time away from the office - when they were under threat, that is.

Which they hadn’t been for almost a month now. It wouldn’t have been so bad, had New York not currently undergoing a typhoon, as Clint labelled it. Relentless onslaughts of hail and rain had poured down over the city, dragging the days and nights on into one grey, gloomy block of time.

The inhabitants at Avengers tower moped around the place, almost begging for something to happen. Once a police siren had sounded a few blocks away, and half of them hand sprinted through the rain to see the situation. A man had stood on the bonnet of a patrol car, and received a wall of pent-up adrenaline from Captain America.

Clint had been in hysterics at the guy’s face, doubling over in the middle of the sidewalk.

After that escapade, Fury had informed them he’d received word from local authorities that Avenger intervention for menial matters wasn’t necessary. Basically, a polite way of saying Kindly piss off next time.

So they stayed at the tower, watching episode after episode of _f.r.i.e.n.d.s_ , which was exciting for all of half an episode. It was just on for the sake of it now, they were starting to think. Their session of mulling in the gloomy weather was disturbed by Sam suddenly kicking his legs out in frustration - not unlike a toddler about to throw a major tantrum, and whinging out a frustrated groan.

“Oh, come on! Why the hell are we just staying here?” The man threw himself to his feet, clapped his hands, and turned to face Thor, who was taking up an entire sofa to himself, Jane sat haphazardly on his hip. “You - where haven’t you been yet? Statue of Liberty? The MET - oh! Empire State Building?”

Thor just smiled and shook his head, “I’m afraid I have, Sam,” he God’s expression was soft and apologetic, “Jane and I have explored New York many times, now,” Sam threw his hands in the air, slumping back into his spot on the sofa in defeat with another groan.

“I think he was actually stood on the roof on the Empire State Building last battle? Conducting lightning or whatever it is you do, buddy-” Tony supplied, legs thrown over the back of the chair as he dangled off the edge of the seat backwards. Steve cringed at the sight when Tony moved too fast, seeming as though he might land on his neck and snap it or something stupid and not unlike Tony.

“Aye, a month ago now, that was,” Thor sighed, throwing his head back into the fluffy cushion it was resting on.

Sam sat up again, eyes lit up, catching their attention. “C'mon, we have a jet - a fucking jet - we can literally go anywhere, right now-”

“Oh, can we make a trip of it?” Nat supplied from her spot on the rug, legs thrown over Bruce’s lap. “If we’re needed anywhere we’ll get there in a flash, I mean, New York isn’t the only place that needs defending-”

“-I don’t know, have you seen every disaster movie, like, ever-?”

“-lets go somewhere where it isn’t pissing it down, take a break,” she enthused, raising an eyebrow at them all as if to emphasise her point - decidedly ignoring Clint’s input.

“A vacation? _God_ , I’m so glad to hear you saw those words” Clint moaned, already getting up and talking to the elevator.

“Where’re you going?” Sam called after him.

“I’m gonna pack! Just choose somewhere hot and I’m down - I wanna be out of this shit-hole before dinner, thanks!”

"Hey! This shit-hole was build personally for your use, you ingrate!” Tony hollered after him.

Bucky looked over at Steve, mouth in a casual frown and shrugging nonchalantly. The blonde nodded, considering, and stood up next to Sam.

“Alright, alright - we’re going to Morocco, I’m putting my foot down-”

“Hold up, we didn’t even get a vote-!” Tony piped up. Around him, the others were excitedly jogging off to their quarters, presumably to pack their things.

“Do you have a problem with Morocco, Stark?” Steve asked, brows drawn together tightly.

“He doesn’t have a problem with Morocco,” Bruce supplied, patting Tony on the shoulder as he walked past them to the elevator. “He has a problem with you being the one to decide,”

“Oh for god’s- don’t be such a baby-!”

“I’m not! I’m just saying its not very democratic of you-”

Natasha pinched Tony by the ear as she strolled past the pair, holding on to the smaller man as she went, ending the discussion from heading any further.

Steve watched after them with a fond smile playing at his lips, before striding over to join them.

They were going to Morocco.

* * *

The villa they were staying in was buried amongst the rows of beautiful homes alongside the coastal line, overlooking a wonderfully deep blue sea - glittering droplets of golden sunlight off it’s gentle surface. The air was thick and warm, filled with an ambient buzz of vibrant lifestyles and comfortable laughter. Their home for the fortnight was half dipped in cool shadow, the top blanketed in an orange glow from the setting sun to the left of the building.

It was absolutely beautiful.

Inside, the floors were coated in intricate tile details, some forming mosaics. Flourishing plants potted in glossy ceramic pots were littered around the space, which wasn’t huge, but large enough for all ten of them. The rooms were open plan, save for the bedrooms, and draped in rich colours. The curtains at the windows were delicate, wisps of a sheer fabric that was slightly transparent, swaying in the soft evening breeze from the sea front a short stroll away.

There was a dining room in the centre of the place, which was laid out in a kind of cross design. The entrance  hall pointed directly to the dining room, which then branched off  to the left into a lounge area - which had a balcony overlooking the quant street below, since the place was raised off the sloping gradient of the hill. The next room directly ahead was a recreation area. The ceiling fan hummed from its spot overlooking the centre of the room, which was adorned with a cocktail bar, stools, wicker furniture, and a plush love seat. The large balcony from that room greeted them with the sight of the sea, stretching endlessly towards the horizon.

Finally, to the right, a smaller room upon raised floor was home to a spiral staircase that lead upstairs to the bedrooms, followed by an archway that extended the wing into a moderately sized kitchen.

Following up the staircase, it opened up onto a landing which branched off into four bedrooms, with enough space that each of them would have a double bed to themselves. Thor and Jane claimed one for themselves, while Tony lunged into one of the large rooms he was sharing with Bruce and Rhodey. Bucky slung his bag off his shoulder into another room, which he, Steve, and Sam decided to bunk in together, leaving Natasha and Clint to fight over the bed closest to the balcony. Clint won, surprisingly, only to realise Natasha was smugly sat on the bed he then realised was closest to the ensuite. Damnit.

Steve and Bucky were still gaping at the place, which Tony had organised last-minute. By the time they’d all settled into their rooms, luggage tucked away, they’d joined downstairs to investigate the place a little more closely.

Steve almost flushed when his stomach unleashed an unceremonious growl, causing a few head to turn.

“Guessing we should eat?” Sam mused, looking expectantly at the others.

“Sounds like a plan,” Tony drawled, already headed upstairs, “Meet down here in twenty, we’ll head out someplace down by the sea,” and with that, they departed to go freshen themselves up.

Fifteen minutes later, Natasha emerged in the entrance hall in a beautiful white sundress, dark blue pumps, and a large sun hat - the brim extending enough to almost cover her shoulders.

“I think I know that hat - that hat abducted me, it did things to me and now I can’t have children!” Clint said, stood in his obscene purple flip flops.

“You have children, stop recycling stupid jokes from sitcoms,” Clint squealed when Natasha landed a solid punch to his shoulder, earning a deep rumbling laugh from Thor as he and Jane joined them.

Thor was wearing a tasteful Hawaiian shirt - as tasteful as a Hawaiian shirt really can be, though, which isn’t very tasteful - accompanied by Jane who had a simple pair of loose fitted trousers and a clean button up shirt.

A few minutes after, Steve, Bucky, and Sam jogged down the steps in similar attires - short-sleeve shirts and shorts in varying colours.

“Decided not to go for the hot pants in the end, huh, Sam?” Clint quipped, settling his hands on his hips.

“Whatever, you straight-up look like a Dad from the suburbs, man - purple flip-flops, _really_?”

“I thought the birds around here were pretty? These ones just keep squawking,”

“If I wasn’t afraid of losing my shooting arm, I might slap you for that, Natasha,”

Bruce trotted down a few seconds later, looking no different than normal except for his shirt sleeves being pushed up to the elbows and his shoes looking slightly more ventilated. Rhodey emerged looking as similar as Steve and the others had, and Tony showed up dressed in a white shirt with the first few buttons popped open, revealing granted skin underneath. His pants were a light grey, and hugged his form nicely - causing Steve to become suddenly very interested with the floor.

* * *

That evening, when they returned from their night out, Thor had boldly declared he would start mixing drinks at their bar. This shortly turned into a mixology competition between himself, Clint, and Rhodey. Rhodey was victorious, ending in a greatly put out Clint and a ton of concoctions they all challenged them selves into finishing.

Before one in the morning, Clint and Rhodey had drunk each other under the table - funnily enough, they were also passed out under the table - while Natasha and Jane danced childishly with Bruce, who was more or less merely being caught in the fray. Thor’s intoxicating laughter filled the room as he watched his Jane, usually more subdued, dance without a care in the world.

Sam and Bucky were staring each other down, trying not to laugh as they threw back shot after shot of tequila.

Steve watched the scene with a warm buzz from the balcony, having used Thor’s mead as a mixer for most drinks just to feel the effects. Tony skunk in beside him, his head rolling back in a hysteric laugh at the scene before them. Steve jumped suddenly when Tony seemed to lose his footing, easing them both into the cool tile floor as Tony continued to giggle to himself.

“Do I need to cut you off?” He laughed, feeling the flush of alcohol on his cheeks. He felt looser, as if his actions were just rolling off of him in their own accord. Which is why his arm wound its way over Tony’s shoulders, he told himself, nothing more.

“No! No, no, no, no, no - I’m perfect right now, perfectly fine, I could pilot the suit to prove it-”

Steve yanked the smaller man back down with a hysterical laugh of his own, feeling his smile crease the corners of his eyes. Tony flopped back onto the floor next to him, snorting loudly before humming contently. Tony looked over at Steve, a playful glint in his eye.

Reaching into his pocket, Tony pulled out a carefully wrapped spliff, and placed it between his lips languidly. Steve let his eyes linger over his friend’s mouth, lips parted around the joint, and bobbed his mouth wordlessly.

Okay, so he wasn’t oblivious to the tension between him and Tony. Everyone knew about it - they were like hot and cold, they bickered relentlessly, started shouting matches only every week it seemed, and had a very complicated past when it came to each other, extending prior to their actual first meeting. But the tension had started to dissipate into something more… interesting? Was the best way Steve could describe it.

It seemed none of the others had cottoned on to the shift in their dynamic, but slowly the bickering became some odd form of flirting, the the shouting matches - which, granted, were far less frequent now - left them both leaving for air, feeling hot and tense, fisting their hands by their sides to stop themselves reaching out and just grabbing for one another.

After those encounters, Steve wasn’t ashamed to admit he either retreated into a cold shower, pound the hell out of the lunching bags, or perhaps as on one occasion, take his problem into his own hands… not just figuratively.

Tony looked up at him from underneath his dark lashes, sending a wave of electricity down Steve’s spine.

“Light?” He mumbled round the blunt between his lips, and Steve moved his hand into his pocket, suddenly very aware of his own tongue. He cleared his throat and pulled out a lighter, holding it to the joint at Tony’s lips.

Tony send a huff of smoke out downwards, peeling his eyes off of Steve’s face. Offering it to Steve, the blonde took in a deep breath, held it in his mouth, and released slowly, feeling the warm flood of relaxation seep into his veins.

They sat there for a few minutes, smoking together, passing the item between them tenderly. It was intimate, and usually Steve would have slipped away by now, back to the safety of his other teammates; but Tony… Tony was intoxicating. The knots that had formed in his stomach felt eased under the buzz of alcohol and steady mull of weed. Steve mouthed the end of the joint each time he brought it to his lips, as if  trying to taste Tony. It was sensual, and Steve felt himself lean towards Tony - and amazingly, Tony was leaning towards him too.

“How long have you two been hiding that from us?!” Came a loud and very undignified shout from Clint, catching the attention of the room. Sliding over, Clint joined them on the floor, and took a long drag after Tony offered it out to him.

“Oh, my god - I haven’t done this since I was sixteen, _fuck_ , that’s good,” the archer drawled, laying back against the tiles on the floor. Natasha crouched down next to Steve with Rhodey following closely behind her.

Tony pulled out another joint, passing it to his friend, who grinned devilishly. “I hear that, must’ve been just after college we last did this, Tones,” the man grinned, lighting the end of the joint.

“Oh, please, we’ve done it at least every year on your birthday, honey - don’t act like a patron saint-”

“Yes… but in a dignified way! With tumblers of good scotch and leather armchairs - not slumped on the floor like a bunch of teenagers on their first vacation,” He laughed, shaking his head and earning a snort from Tony, who looked as out of it as Steve felt. God, he just wanted to touch his lips, feel the crook of his chin in his hands…

“Cap actually looks pretty out of it, oh, my god - you corrupted Captain America, you heathen, Tony Stark-”

“He ain’t never been righteous, pal,” Bucky drawled, joining them on the floor. “He’s been picking fights and doin’ joints longer that you’ve been a moron”.

Bruce let out a low whistle, “that sure is a long time…” He added innocently, chucking at Clint’s protests.

“Aw, come on, Bruce! I thought you were the nice one!”

“Yes, I am - but you’re still the annoying one”.

The rest of them slowly joined them, and they lead under the stars of the Moroccan sky, feeling lighter than any of them had in a long time, and it wasn’t just because of the pot.

* * *

The next morning, a couple of them were nursing considerable hangovers, and stumbled their way into the lounge, basking on the cool surface of the tiled floor. Bruce was cooking up a monstrous amount of bacon, eggs, and sausage, while Steve pottered around the kitchen scouring together mugs of tea, coffee, and juice for Rhodey - because he was healthy like that.

Tony shuffled downstairs, coming to lie on the sofa next to Rhodey, who grunted a greeting in response.

“Do you reckon we’re starting to get too old for that shit?” Rhodey groaned, shielding his eyes from the sunlight that was slowly basking the room in an orange glow from where it peered over the horizon, already enticingly warm.

“Honey-bear, I think we were too old for that kind of thing about a decade ago,” Tony snorted, wincing when his headache kicked back at him in protest.

“Well, seems there are some things you’re not too old for,” Rhodey mused, a pointed look on his face. Tony’s expression was hopelessly blank. Rhodey let out a long suffering sigh.

“I saw you last night - acting like a lovesick teenager the way you were drooling over him,” he nodded towards Steve, keeping his voice low, as the blonde set down a tray of drinks in the middle of the room. Natasha’s hand emerged from the pile of blankets she was absorbed in, fishing out a cup of herbal tea - by some freak of nature knowing exactly which was her mug - without so much as peering through the mound she’d occupied herself in.

Tony stares after her, bewildered and disgusted at how efficient she was even hungover, before Rhodey snapping  his fingers together to get his friend’s attention back.

“How long have you…?” The man waved his hand around ambiguously, trying to find the right choice of words. Tony sighed, knowing of all people, he couldn’t hide anything from Rhodey.

“Couple of months-”

“Months-?!”

“Hey! Keep it down - listen, I don’t even know if he even likes me, let alone… You know…”

“…Wants to sleep with you?”

“…more or less, I suppose…”

Rhodey took a deep breath, considering for a few moments, leaving Tony in anticipation of whatever Wise Words his friend was about to offer.

“Well, from a practical point of view, don’t get your hopes up - hey, no, don’t give me that sad face, I mean, he was drunk and high last night… But, he was definitely interested - more than interested, it looked.”

Tony’s head snapped up, before he schooled his excited expression into one something more neutral. As if Rhodey couldn’t see right through it.

“I don’t know what changed, all of a sudden it was a tension that needed to be beat out in a punching-bag, and now it needs to be beat-“

“-Please don’t finish that sentence until I don’t feel nauseous anymore, Christ,”

Tony grinned devilishly, though they both knew it was genuine. Tony had loved hard and fast for as long as Rhodey had known him, almost always getting himself hurt. Rhodey always found himself picking up the pieces.

God help Steve Rogers if he became one of those people to hurt Tony - there wasn’t an unproductive bone in James Rhodes’ body when it came to his friend.

* * *

“Wait! I lost my flip-flops!”

“No you didn’t,” Natasha called over her shoulder as they strolled down a steady slope towards the beach, “I threw them off the pier when you went to get sunblock,”

“Tasha!” The archer squawked, looking offended as he scurried down to catch up with her, ignoring the snickers coming from Bucky and Sam from beside her.

“T'is true!” Thor called from in front of them, Jane wrapped up under one of his arms.

“She tied them to a rock, too - those things are long gone,” Jane looked mildly apologetic over her shoulder, just as Clint through his hands up in the air.

“Relax, Clint!” Tony called from Rhodey’s shoulders - the reinforced frames around his legs giving him more strength to support the weight, “I’ll buy you a new pair!”

“Really?”

“Fuck, no! I found the fucking rock to tie them down with!”

With that, Clint surged down the rest of the slope - Rhodey having already dropped Tony after the archer came sprinting at them - as the brunette scrambled back up in the sand, running from the archer cackling madly.

Steve watched as Clint scrapped Tony, tossed him over his shoulder as he waded out into the shimmering waters, and threw Tony under the waves.

They all settled along the beach, it’s sands a beautiful golden white, palm trees looming overhead offering patches of shade. They set up chairs and towels next to a cluster of smooth rocks, which Thor was immediately climbing to the top of. The edge of the rocks smoothed out and overlooked the water, extending a go distance from the shore to offer space to jump into the waters below.

The others watches as Clint sprinted out the waters, almost crying with laughter as Tony spluttered to the surface - clothes sticking to him like a second skin.

* * *

“It’s like a hundred degrees right now, Tones, you really not getting in the water?” Sam asked, plonking himself down on the towel next to Tony, who was watching the others toss each other over into the waves.

“I already have, thanks to Clint,” he said without much heat.

The others had all stripped down to their bathing suits - even Bruce, usually more reserved, exposing an impressive amount of chest hair.

And then there was Steve, the Adonis himself. His skin was smooth and water glided off of his chest like silk, and despite his skin being on the paler side, he looked absolute radiant. His golden hair had been plastered back on his head, beautifully exposing his strong features which were pulled into comfortable smiles and laughter. Tony’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but instantly felt a pang of hurt at being stuck on the sidelines.

Tony was led back on the beach, having discreetly slipped out of his wet clothes and into swimming trunks and a t-shirt with sleeves that finished at the elbows.

Tony had never been body conscious before in his life - plenty of scandalous articles from his adolescence speak for themselves. But, since the reactor had buried its way into his chest, he was reluctant for anyone to get a good look at him. Not only did it expose a chink in his infallible armour, but, in his opinion, was an ugly, grotesque reminder of the man he used to be.

It was his penance, and he deserved every stretch mark, scar, discolouration, and mutilation the device projected onto him. It was freakish, he knew - Pepper, bless her heart, had never mentioned it save for the situation where she had to stick her hand through his chest.

Ah, memories.

The other members of the team hadn’t seen it. Tony hadn’t let any photos be leaked of him shirtless after Afghanistan, which was actually rather easy, since he barely took his shirt off at home, let alone in public. Quite frankly, Tony preferred it that way - he already felt like he was the weak link of the bunch, the liability, in some ways. He didn’t need to give them all another reason to think less of him. He wouldn’t be able to stand that look on Steve’s face.

Tony’s attention was snapped back to reality when Natasha came to loom over him. He peered at her over the rim of his sunglasses, eyebrows raised in question.

“Miss Romanoff, can I help you?”

“C'mon, join us, Shellhead,” she said without preamble, extending an efficiently manicured hand towards him.

Tony shifted uncomfortably, pulling at the fabric covering his battered chest. If Natasha noticed - which she certainly did - she didn’t say anything.

“Uh, I don’t know, the water makes my hair funny - it the salt, y'know’,

"Sure, sure… I could sort it out for you afterward if you like?” She said, playing along with his game.

“People might judge - it’s not pretty,”

“We don’t care, there’s nothing wrong with you or it, Tony,”

“You haven’t seen it,”

“I don’t need to,”

Sam stared back and forth between the pair at the exchange, eyes narrowed in speculation.

“…I’m gonna take a wild stab in the dark here and guess you aren’t talking about his hair,” he deadpanned.

Natasha tossed him a look that screamed really, and crouched down next to her friend. Sam took it as his cue to get back in the water, muttering something about thinking this kind of thing would be over after high school.

“Since when have you cared what we think?” She questioned, arching her eyebrow at the brunette.

“Well, it’s not so much you guys its…” He waved his hands around as if trying to will the answer, “…an individual,”

“Oh?” Nat schooled her expression and glanced towards the group, who were currently lifting Bucky in the air and throwing him into the water while he cursed them.

“I guess it’s not me, since you’re talking to me, and it can’t be Jane, because Thor’s strangled you before - and I think he’d break your neck,” Tony rolled his eyes, and Natasha continued, more gently this time.

“Kotonyok, he won’t care - whoever he is, and if you tell anyone I said this I’ll just deny it, but you are a very beautiful guy,”

Tony flashed her a dazzling grin, mischievous glint in his eye, “Nat, I’m flattered, really, but-”

“Oh, for the love of- I regret being nice to you already,” She got up and went back to the sea, and this time, Tony followed her.

Putting years of media training to use, and acting as if he didn’t care, he shrugged of the shirt he was wearing, exposing his chest. Natasha turned to him smiling, but it quickly turned to a scowl when Tony ran up to her, and scooped her up in his arms, charging at the water.

She clawed at his back, laughing manically, before using her weight to throw them both under the waves.

Tony came up spluttering and laughing, momentarily forgetting about the reactor. He stood up, and realised he’d popped up right in front of Steve, who was staring at him. What’s more, he was staring into his eyes, not his chest. His eyes were the most startling blue in front of him, despite being surrounded by the glittering waves around him.

Steve’s gaze was interrupted by a beach ball colliding with with side of his face, and Tony winced as he saw the blonde loose his footing. Immediately resurfacing from the water, Steve lunged at Bucky and Sam, grappling them while Natasha, Clint and Bruce hooted.

“Wow- I’ve never seen the reactor before, only specs from your papers…” came Jane’s voice from beside him, as she perched on Thor’s shoulders. He gently put her down next to his smaller friend, smiling, letting her inquisitive nature get a better look.

“I can’t believe you made it out of scraps, it’s impossible - I had such a science-crush-thing on you when I read about it,” Tony’s gaze snapped up to meet Thor’s, hand reflexively coming around his one throat to protect it. Thor’s faux-storm gaze cracked into a large shit-eating grin, and he clapped the brunette on the shoulder.

“it is remarkable, my friend - though a grievous wound, no doubt,” Thor finished somewhat solemnly. Jane seemed to register the emotional impact the device must’ve had on Tony’s life, and flushed red.

“God- I’m sorry, your probably didn’t want anyone saying anything, I get it, it’s personal-”

“No, no, it’s… It’s okay, honestly I thought it would be weird, but…” Tony cautioned a look down at the scarred skin around the reactor, and felt a knot in his chest loosen faintly. “But I guess I prefer having it out there, rather than people speculating about it - it’s not exactly something I, y'know, flash about,” he finished lamely, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Thor frowned at his friend.

“Tony, you should wear your wounds with honour, as James does, and Clinton does with his listening-devices - ‘hearing aids’, you call them?” He asked, looking down at Jane for confirmation, who nodded fondly, “They are not to be ashamed of, my friend, they honour you!” The God pulled an arm round the brunette, smiling fiercely.

* * *

Steve watched from the corner of his eye the interaction taking place between Tony and Thor, barely noticing Bucky toss seaweed over Sam’s face.

Tony looked gorgeous under the beating sun. His normally perfectly styled hair was messy and plastered down his face, curling over his sparking eyes. His skin was golden and tan, and looked irresistible to touch- smoothly running down his muscular yet lean figure, which sloped gorgeously at his ass. Steve felt a wave of warmth run down his body, pooling in his gut, and he resisted the urge to break the distance between them.

The reactor was something else. The skin around it was scarred, pale in some places - similar to bolts of electricity, and in others an unnatural dark hue took to the veins. Palladium poisoning, be remembered. The skin puckered at the edges of the device, which glowed a soft pale blue that gently cast across his pectorals.

Aesthetically, Tony was absolutely beautiful. But in the past couple of became harder and harder not to notice the little quirks of the man’s personality. He cared for those around him fiercely, it drove his ambition - developing ways to help them, to keep them safe. Contrary to his initial beliefs, the man was anything but selfish - he was selfless, and under the bravado, he cared frighteningly little about his own wellbeing.

Their gazes met then, for a few moments that felt like an eternity, living his stomach swimming wonderfully. And if Steve’s touch lingered over Tony a little longer than anyone else’s while they all shoved each other around playing volleyball, the brunette didn’t seem to mind.

* * *

That evening back at the villa, everyone sat down around the dining table which was littered with poker chips and playing cards. Sam dealt the cards round expertly, and Steve grinned at Bucky who was sat towards his elbow.

Back during the war, he and commandos had played this game religiously. They were experts at poker faces, bluffing, and knowing the hands to play; and they were almost vibrating with excitement at being able to rub it in the others’ faces.

An hour or so in, and Thor was out, having lost all his chips. Jane rubbed Thor’s massive arm consoling while he pouted. Half an hour later, and Bruce had conceded , though he looked very amused and kept casting glances at Tony, who - fair play to the man - was exceptional. A few minutes later, Natasha also ducked out the game, an air of understanding between him and Bruce. Rhodey hadn’t even joined in the first place, instead choosing to overlook the whole game with an observant gaze.

Steve seemed taken back by that, expecting more of a fight out of Nat - it usually took her a while to back down, she only did so if she knew she was going to be beaten. Steve couldn’t help feeling rather smug - intimidating the Black Widow in a game of poker.

He and Bucky bumped their fists together under the table.

The other man then shared a glance with Steve, which to anyone else was unreadable - barely noticeable, to to Steve it read plain and simple: I’ve got a fucking good hand right now, we’ve got'em.

The pair weren’t playing together, but found satisfaction in being the last two remaining. Steve suppressed a gleeful grin expertly.

“I’ll raise you fifty bucks, Bucky,” Clint grinned, tossing the chips in. They turned to Tony, who gave nothing away on his expression. Steve was practically hanging off the edge of his chair - if Tony fell in Bucky’s trap of playing the hand off nonchalantly, Clint would be out, and Tony would be next to go. Tiny had played well, but he was average - managed to hold his own, sure, but certainly didn’t stand out, Bucky noted.

“And you, Tony?” Thor questioned, looking intently at the game.

“Nah, I fold this time,” Tony said casually, tossing his cards towards Sam. Bucky looked murderous, and Steve almost couldn’t believe it - they’d made it look so sure that they were at a disadvantage, hung it in front of Clint and Tony’s noses. Clint had took the bait, why the hell hadn’t Tony?

Bucky brushed it off, marking it down to bad luck. “Read em’ and weep, Barton,” he declared slyly, placing his cards face-up on the table, “Full House,”

Clint swore, tossing his cards at the pair before throwing his arms up, exasperated.

“Aw, come on! Seriously? You bait me?” Bucky just huffed out an air of laughter, accepting his cards from Sam, who shook his head fondly, familiar with the two’s antics. “Whatever, poker sucks, why aren’t we playing Go Fish?”  
“Nah, c'mon, let’s finish the game,” Steve announced, clapping his hands together.

“Sure, okay,” Tony said, looking at his cards. Tony looked up at them and gave them a shit-eating grin, before quickly schooling his expression into something neutral. It was the oldest trick in the book - a double-bluff, acting disappointed after pretending to be happy at a hand. Steve had to stop himself smiling - it was kind of adorable.

His hand was trash, then.

Steve loved liked Tony, but the man’s poker face was awful sometimes. His media front was flawless, but when relaxed around his friends, his walls were down.

Which is why Steve almost crushed the hand of cards in his grip when Tony laid his hand down on the table.

Royal Flush.

“Triple-bluff,” Natasha laughed.

“You son-of-a-bitch, Stark,” Bucky muttered, folding his hands back against his neck in defeat.

“Gentleman, it was a pleasure-” Tony grinned, scooping his winnings into his arms. “So, just to get this right - each chip is an hour worth of you filling out post-mission paperwork, Steven?” The brunette asked innocently.

Those had been the others’ terms to actually get them to play - Sam had let slip how good Steve was at the game, so the steaks had to be raised.

They all fucking hated paperwork.

“Aw, he looks so happy,” Bruce commented, before casting a look at Natasha, “think we should tell them and spoil his fun, there?”

Bucky and Steve look up dubiously at the pair, before Bucky spoke up in a low, steady tone.

“Tell us what” He bit out - it wasn’t a question.

“Tony can count cards,” Nat grinned mischievously, and Rhodey hid his laughter behind his fist.

“I learnt that in our first year of college,” the man laughed, just as Bucky set a murderous stare on Tony.

“Now, now - in all fairness, I can’t actually help it-”

“You just failed t'mention, right?” Bucky said, voice eerily calm.

“…right?” Tony winced, before shooting out of his seat when Bucky lunged at him from across the table, much to Thor’s delight, as he boomed with laughter.

Steve couldn’t help but grin.

* * *

“You didn’t have to do this, Steve,” Tony said from the sink, scrubbing the last of the crockery. Steve looked up from where he was drying them with a dishcloth, and smiled shyly.

“Nah, it’s fine, Tony,” the blonde said, stacking the plate he’d been holding into the shelf beside him. “If you’ve gotta stay here n’ clean while the others go out for your little poker-scam back there, I’ll keep you company,” Steve quipped, earning a snort from Tony.

“Wasn’t like you and Barnes didn’t have your own plans going on,”

“Well, our plan wasn’t cheating, if that’s what you mean - just tactics,”

“Mine was a tactic!”

“Counting cards is foul-play and you know it, Mister Stark!” The blonde laughed, eyes glistening.

“That’s a matter of opinion - frankly, it’s just an ability I was utilising… Like when we spar, you have super strength! Isn’t that a tactical advantage?”

“I can’t turn off the serum, Tony,”

“Uh, excuse me? Didn’t I mention earlier I just naturally count the cards, or weren’t you listening?”

“Oh, I was listening, alright, but I don’t keep my abilities a secret to cheat-”

“Cheating is a dirty word, I prefer… Manipulating the situation to my advantage,”

“Which is an asshole-way of saying cheating, got'cha, Shellhead,”

Steve laughed at Tony’s indignant squawk, before setting the dishcloth down and wandering out towards the balcony in the recreation room.

As punishment for his deception, Tony had been assigned cleaning duty for the remainder of the evening while the others hit the bars. As a good team leader which absolutely no alterer motive, no siree, Steve stayed behind to help, claiming he felt bad leaving Tony alone, even if he was a sneaky little shit.

Steve and Tony set down and drank by the balcony for a good hour, chatting idly about anything that came to mind. The others weren’t coming back anytime soon, Steve knew; Tony was quietly watching the yellow hued moon above them, taking in the breeze that relieved them from the muggy Moroccan air. The hum of crickets filled their ears, along with the occasional shout from party-goers down the street - accompanied by mellow tunes of acoustic guitars coming from a lounge a few blocks away.

Tony looked beautiful, his eyes glistening in the moonlight, soft curls of hair stroking the nape of his neck and flopping over his eyes. He smelled of sea-salt and vanilla, his bare feet hung over the balcony as he sat in shorts and an oversized t-shirt that read The Runaways across the front.

Maybe it was the warm air surrounding them, or the alcohol swimming through his system, but Steve languidly curled an arm round Tony’s shoulders. The brunette didn’t seem to think much of it, as Steve suspected - it was a common way they all treated each other, it was friendly. Taking a hesitant breath in, Steve slid the arm down until it settled over Tony’s narrow waist, and he resolutely looked at the sea in front of him - his stomach churning like the waves below.

Tony stilled, but after a few moments leaned into his touch, eventually laying his head down on Steve’s shoulder. Steve bit his lip to stop himself grinning like a mad-man.

“I wasn’t the only one who noticed the shift between us then,” Tony said softly, chancing a steady smile at Steve. The blonde looked down at the smaller man, and tightened his grip.

“Not exactly,” he breathed. God - he thought he’d made some progress in flirting since his first attempt with Peggy, but Tony made him feel simultaneously like he was a scrawny kid from Brooklyn all over again, and like he was on cloud nine.

“Y'know… I gotta be honest with you, Tony… When this first started happening, I didn’t think much of it,” Steve mumbled, barely able to hold Tony’s gaze. “I jus’ thought it was a step-up from being at each other’s throats - bet then it just kept going up, and it still hasn’t stopped,” he wet his lips before continuing.

“Somehow, you make me feel not only like I’m that skinny kid from Brooklyn, but also like I’m on cloud nine… like, like I’m the most important thing in the room, yet so small and, and weak in the knees when you so much as smile, I don’t know how you do it, Christ, you create this impossible… dichotomy-”

Tony had surged forward then, and firmly placed his mouth over Steve’s, enticing a whimper from the blonde, who cupped the back of the smaller man’s head and held him close. Tony’s lips were soft and pliable, and he moaned gorgeously when Steve led him back against the cool tiles of the floor, swinging a leg over the brunette’s hips, pushing him down with the weight of his muscular body and deepening the kiss.

Tony ran his hands desperately through Steve’s golden hair, pulling at it gently, sending electricity down the man’s spine. Tony hooked his legs round Steve’s hips, rolling them over so he could press himself against the larger man’s body, rolling his hips against the bulge forming under Steve’s trousers.

The soldier breathed heavily, clenching a fist in Tony’s hair, before kissing back enthusiastically. After a few intoxicating moments, Steve scooped Tony up into his arms, and pushed him up onto the bar, absently sliding the drapes shut and flicking the lights off as he went, while Tony mouthed on his earlobe menacingly.

The room was lit warmly by the light coming from the lounge and a few floor lamps, casting a peachy glow over the two men.

Tony caught Steve’s lip between his teeth, sucking at it irresistibly, while Steve pulled Tony by the hips. The blonde then pushed Tony back against the surface of the bar, absently knocking shot glasses to the floor - oblivious to the way to crystal shattered against the tile. Steve climbed over Tony, running his hands over the man’s body, mouthing at his olive skin.

“This isn’t-” a wet kiss to the cheek, “-too much-” a bite on Steve’s neck, “-too soon,” a dirty kiss over the lips, “-is it?”

The blonde responded by lifting the brunette again, who cackled in delight, holding him up with one arm and stripping himself and Tony of their shirts, kicking the wicker armchair out the way and laying down against the dining room table. Their bodies glided over each other, slick with sweat and heat, feverishly kissing each other as if desperate for air.

Tony’s hands made quick work of Steve’s belt, cupping his groin and shimmying his pants over his hips. Manoeuvring off the table, which now had previously-neatly stacked cards scattered and crumpled everywhere, the two slammed against the wall on the entrance hall.

Tony sunk to his knees, running his hands down the length of Steve’s gorgeous body, muscles flexing and tightening under the touch.

Steve swore when Tony took him inside his mouth, making him throw one arm over his face and another to the back of Tony’s head. Steve pushed the brunette’s head deeper, thrusting forward into the movement. Tony expertly got him off with just his lips and tongue, humming strategically, Steve barely able to stop himself sliding down the wall. He gripped at the handle of the banister, which gave way under his strength.

“Holy shit, holy shit, Tony,” the man moaned, hips jutting forwards as if they had a mind of their own.

When Tony came off him with an obscenely wet noise, Steve hauled him up and carried him up the winding steel staircase - barely able to pull up his pants long enough so he didn’t trip over them.

Steve pressed Tony against another wall just before the entrance of his bedroom - forgetting completely it wasn’t just his right now - biting at the man’s lips, sucking on his tongue, winding his hands through soft brown locks. Tony wrapped his legs round Steve’s waist, rocking forward desperately, heaving in breathes between frantic kisses.

Steve pushed them off the wall, and kicked the door shut behind them one they were inside the room, sending a crack through the plaster of the doorframe. He led Tony down gently on his mattress, despite the passion of the moment, because ultimately this was special. This man drove him wild, and it had taken all the strength in his super-enhanced body not to jump Tony’s bones the moment he had him under his lips.

They tossed their remainder of their clothes away, ignoring where they landed, so long as they weren’t governing a strip of Tony’s gorgeous body.

Steve kissed the reactor, feeling Tony still at the intimate gesture. Steve just carried on, delicately touching the edges while sucking hickeys into the skin around the device. Tony whimpered, and pulled Steve back to his lips, gave him everything.

At one point Steve had leapt off the bed towards his duffle bag, tipping out the contents of a toiletry bag before emerging with a discrete-looking tube and a brightly wrapped condom. He threw himself back between Tony’s legs, laughing brightly, full of utter delight. God, he loved this man.

He worked the brunette slowly, so gently Tony felt his entire body flush, his heart skip a beat, moaning obscenely when Steve curled his fingers. Tony stroked Steve idly, with each pull earning a delightful moan from the soldier.

At some point, Steve was rolling his body against Tony’s, turning over, running hands over each other and arching into the pleasure. The air was heavy and hot, interrupted only by a soft breeze from outside that carried waves of music and nightlife. Steve held Tony, rocking into him rhythmically, pressing their foreheads together, eyes meeting, lips ghosting over each other, immersed in absolute bliss.

* * *

It was three in the morning when the others stumbled out of the last karaoke bar, wandering down the cosy streets towards their home for the next week and a half.

Natasha and Rhodey had their arms around Clint, who was still singing horrendously, while Bruce and Jane babbled excitedly over absolutely anything - from the mixture of chemicals they’d been throwing back all night (save for Bruce, who’d stuck to juice and pot, thanks to Tony), to the sea of stars blanketing the night sky above them. Bucky, Sam, and Thor were running between the group like excited children, sparring casually and jesting.

“ _-Baby you got me like Gah-ah-ah-ahd, whoo! Gah-ah-ah-ahd!_ ”

“-Clint, for the love of-!”

“ _-don’t you stop-” belch “-lovin’ me, don’t quit lovin’ me, jus’_ \- fuck, oh fuck there’s loads of saliva in my mouth, Tasha-”

Rhodey side-stepped out the archer’s trajectory, missing the bile Clint retched up, while screwing his face up in disgust, though laughing wildly.

“You’ve been bested, Hawkeye!” Thor jeered, pulling Bucky into a firm grip round the man’s shoulders. “I thought you would be wise enough to realise-!” another belch “-the mighty son of Odin cannot be beaten!”

“He drank you under the fuckin’ table, man!” Sam cackled, swinging off of Thor’s other arm.

“Ugh, whatever - if we played darts like originally planned, your ass would be kicked, buddy,”

They approached the steps leading up to the entrance of their home, when Bruce scooped what looked like a t-shirt off the cobbled road.

“The Runaways - why the hell is Tony’s shirt on the street?” The man questioned, looking bewildered. Rhodey’s eyes widened, and he resisted the urge to burst into laughter. Son-of-a-bitch actually did it. He kept his mouth shut.

Making their way through the entrance, they immediately were taken back by the scene in front of them.

“What the fuck? Were we robbed or somethin’?” Sam slurred, staring at the scene that greeted them. Shattered glass, knocked over furniture, hell, even cracks in the plaster.

Nat strolled forward, steadying herself on the table, before holding out another shirt in her hand.

“Nope. Not robbed.”  
Bucky took the shirt from her hands, and furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Why is Steve’s…?

Oh.

_Oh_.

"Holy shit,”

“What?” Clint asked.

Bucky took the other shirt from Bruce’s hands, and held the two up together, eyebrows raised. Realisation settled over the group like a thick cloud.

“Holy shit!”

* * *

Steve woke up his his head smushed in the same pillow Tony was lead on. His head felt as if it were stuffed full of cotton, but one thing was clear, his night with Tony was perfect.

Smiling, he felt the smooth curve of the brunette’s hipbone under the plush covers, smiling into Tony’s hair - breathing in its comfortable scent.

After a moment, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he pushed himself up from the bed from being led on his front. Turning over, he stopped abruptly mid stretch to find his teammates grinning devilishly from the doorway. Save for Clint, who was flat out howling with laughter.

“Oh - piss off!” He lobbed a pillow at the group, who all scattered with varying noises of horror and disgust at the projectile.

“ _Burn it! I don’t even wanna think about what they did on that thing - fucking burn it!_ ”

Steve just groaned, slumping back into the mattress. Tony’s big dark eyes gazed back at him, bleary with sleep. He hummed in confusion, and Steve pressed a kiss against his forehead, salty with sweat.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,”

And he did.

* * *

When they descended the stairs into the kitchen in the morning, they were met by a sea of mischievous smiles.

Steve was clad in just sweatpants, while Tony had thrown on a pair of boxer shorts and a shirt much too large for him that it almost fit him like a dress. It was pretty adorable.

“I take it you’ve worked up quite an appetite?” Bruce asked with amusement light in his tone, as he played up two more omelettes.

“You know they did - you did see what they did to the place, right?” Clint laughed, while Rhodey stood in the middle of the room, despite their being plenty of seats.

“I don’t know how you lot are doing it - eating off that table - I ain’t touching anywhere until I know exactly whoever they’ve been,” he shook his head, digging into his breakfast. The others all stopped eating, looking horrified by the suggesting, and distancing themselves from the breakfast island in the kitchen.

“We didn’t do it in the kitchen!” Steve blurt out, dragging a hand over his face.

“Yeah, just the bar, the table, the walls, the stairs…”

“I will hurl this at your head, Tony,” Natasha said mildly, twirling a fork between her fingers. Her eyes were sparkling though, clearly seeing the humour in the situation.

After the jokes settled down and they were all tucking into their food, Sam piped up again.

“Okay, I gotta know - how drunk did you two get to actually sleep with each other?” The man asked incredulously, earning a few curious looks from the others.

“I ain’t never seen Stevie that drunk before,” Bucky smirked, poking at his bacon.

Steve shared a meaningful look with Tony, who hid a smile in his coffee mug.

“Uh, actually - not that drunk,” he added casually, immediately stuffing his mouth full of toast.

The following silence could be cut with a knife. Rhodey just smiled to himself, feeling oddly gleeful for his best friend; since coming downstairs, Tony had been deliriously happy, humming softly to himself.

“So… You meant to fuck each other?” Clint asked, and Natasha cuffed him on the back if the head.

“As eloquently put as always, Clinton,” Tony said sweetly, while fixing the archer with a devious stare.

They settled into a comfortable almost-silence, the sound cutlery scraping against crockery, the sounds from the street outside filling the room like music, while the occasional moments of chatter built up among them.

“Come on, really?”

The group paused their eating to look at Bruce, who had opened up the dishwasher to get another glass for the juice which was rapidly declining among them.

“What?”

“You had one job, Tony, and you didn’t even finish it - all you had to do was turn it on!”

“I did turn it on!”

“The dishwasher, Tony, not Steve,”

Bucky practically snorted milk out of his nose next to Sam, who was hiding a smile behind his coffee mug.

“Well,” the engineer said, casting his eyes up to meet Steve’s, which were dancing as wildly as his own were with joy and amusement, “You got me there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave feedback or kudos! It's really encouraging since I don't get a lot of feedback on my tumblr (which is miobambino)!


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